Are the Stars Not as Quiet as Ever?
by bergamasque
Summary: Severus Snape x Beauxbatons student a few nights before the battle of Hogwarts. Mostly smut with enough plot to be realistic. Years after their first encounter, she takes a job as Madame Pomfrey's assistant and visits Snape's ghost in the forbidden forest.
1. Prologue?

I was up in the astronomy tower a few nights before the inevitable battle. The air was heavy, like eyes awaiting tears, and though I was never very good at divination I had a feeling things wouldn't be the same afterwards.

I didn't have any strong feelings on the matter; I was only visiting from Beauxbatons, only spending a semester abroad, but I've always been one for drama, so I haven't told my parents about the uprising yet. Even when Headmaster Dumbledore was killed, and Severus Snape took his place, I chose not to worry their minds; it was excitement I was after, with no regard for safety. And to be honest, I've always found the new headmaster to be somewhat attractive.

"Oughtn't you be in bed, miss?"

I breathed in sharply but then smiled and leaned more heavily on the railing. It's only been a semester here, but I could recognize that severe monotone anywhere.

"I'm on my way, it's just so quiet tonight," I said, turning around, "Something's going to happen, isn't it?"

He didn't answer at first, but took a place next to me at the railing, staring straight ahead before he finally spoke, "The school will most likely undergo another change of leadership when the Dark Lord makes his move."

I wasn't shy, studying his face, trying to see some emotion there. "Not to the school."

No emotion yet, but I felt like I was close. "To you?"

He turned and stared straight at me, eyes narrowing, and spoke slowly. "There are some boundaries that should not be crossed by students."

"Haven't enough boundaries been crossed already? What's one more?" I was less sure of myself now; there was still time for me to get caught up in the ongoing mess and I wasn't very keen to participate.

There was a long pause before he spoke again. "I would advise you to say your goodbyes, tie up loose ends, as…you may not be visiting some of us for quite a while."

I still saw no change in his cold expression, but his voice gave away a sense of sadness.

"Goodbye then," I said, putting a hand on his arm for balance as I stood on my tip toes to kiss his cheek. "It's…very brave of you, you know."

I hoped the night could hide my blushing; I'm not usually shy, and I was only trying to be nice anyways. Or, mostly I was trying to be nice.

"Brave, you say? Most amusing," He spoke before I had fully turned to leave, "That I…don't feel very…"

The last few words were whisper-quiet, almost painfully spoken.

"You are," I said, beginning to fiddle with the buttons on his robes, "And if it has to happen, you might as well enjoy yourself until then…"

He seemed taken aback at first, and I was worried, but he regained his composure and didn't stop me. "You are a very special girl, aren't you?"

I didn't look up at him, but smiled a little, sliding the robes off his shoulders where they then fell to the ground. "I heard you liked special girls."

There were a few chairs in one corner of the tower, and I guided him backwards, telling him to sit down in one. I stood over him, boldly kissing him with the slow smooth passion of one who knows no other way to solace another, before beginning to unbutton his jacket. If it were not for the softening of his expression I would have been afraid to continue, but though he made no direct effort to aid as I removed his jacket, vest, shirt, he was no hindrance either. I ran my hands over his chest and shoulders, the skin cool in contrast to his warm lips. With a hand on his cheek and one reaching back to his knee, I shifted my hips back and forth, slowly, relishing the slight flushing of his complexion as he became aroused.

I paused, leaning in to bite at his neck while I took off my own shirt, unclasping my bra as I whispered to him, "Do you want me?"

A sharp inhale was my only response, and I backed off for a moment before kneeling in front of him with a hand on each of his knees.

"Did you ever think about me, Professor?" I asked, my hands making their way slowly up his inner thigh. "Did you ever want me to do this to you?"

I had unzipped his pants by then, taking out his hardening cock and teasing the tip with my tongue. "I bet you did."

He still said nothing, but his breathing quickened, and he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear as I continued, licking the shaft before taking him into my mouth and bobbing my head up and down.

After a minute I stopped, looking up at him and grinning when I saw his eyes half shut in pleasure. I stood, watching as he anticipated my next move. With an air of confidence, I placed my foot on his knee, where he took the cue to unzip and remove my heeled boot, followed by a thigh-high stocking, before repeating the process on the other side. His hands were gentler than I expected, removing each with a reverent sort of care. I then removed my skirt and panties, and the wetness between my legs only confirmed how badly I wanted him, though I would never relinquish power by saying so. He was mine.

"Won't you tell me you want me, Professor?" I took a place on his lap again, kissing him sloppily before speaking softly, "Tell me you want to fuck me."

Again, he didn't say anything, but I didn't want him to, his quiet groan and shifting in the chair were enough to encourage me. Ever so slowly, as if I wanted to tempt him to throw me against the railing and slam into me from behind, but with the knowledge that he wouldn't, I lowered my dripping pussy onto his cock, taking him all the way inside me.

Placing his hands on my hips to quicken my pace, he left rough kisses down my neck and chest before beginning to suck at my left breast. I moaned in response, leaning back slightly to allow him more room. When he stopped, I laid my arms across his shoulders, to pull us closer together as well as for leverage in slamming onto his cock harder and faster. I'd be lying if I said he wasn't the best I'd ever had, and I was already close, but judging by his heavy breathing, hot against my neck, he was too.

What pushed me over the edge was just before he came, his low, guttural growl as he pulled me down onto his cock so that I felt every drop of his hot cum inside me.

He helped me clean up afterwards, then we stayed up a little later to watch the stars and the moon. Everything was so quiet, but peaceful, and he kissed me again, gently, carefully even, and stayed in the tower for a while after I had left.


	2. 1: Is the job worth it?

"Potions, spells, lucky charms, get them here ladies and gentlemen!" I shouted above the din of the crowd, "Guaranteed to work for love, luck, money, whatever you need!"

"Got anything for a disgruntled wife?" A greasy-fingered man shoved a fifty pound note in my face, his face splotchy red and eyes shifty.

"Caught you cheating or sick of the drinking?" I took the money and put it in my bag before lifting the ratty tablecloth to check the stores.

"Both!" He grunted at me with an ugly grin.

Rolling my eyes, I handed him a bag of herbs and a small vial. "Buy her some jewelry, leave it in the bag overnight under a new moon. Slip the vial in a glass of the richest red wine you can find. Problems solved by the end of the week."

He shoved the two in his pocket. "Pleasure doing business with you, girl!"

Obviously, everything was a placebo. It's illegal, or at least unethical, to sell magic items to muggles. Some random herbs that smell nice together, a few drops of scented water that wouldn't ruin the wine. And every wife likes to get jewelry. But during the downtown Renaissance Faire season, it was the best way to earn money on the side. I really ought to find a job suited for a proper witch, with my outstanding marks in nearly every subject at Beauxbatons I would have no trouble doing so, but everything in England sounded so stuffy. Either I became a professor at Hogwarts, recently reopened after the war nearly two years ago, or I worked for the ministry, which sounded almost as bad as a muggle office job to me. I'd rather sell grass and water on the sidewalks, dressed in full witch attire with a dusty black lace dress and a crooked hat.

"Hey lady!"

I was used to being shouted at, but it was rude nonetheless, so I took my sweet time turning around. "Yes?"

My face fell when I recognized the customer. They were a regular, which was bad news, because it wouldn't take a genius to figure out that everything I sold didn't really work.

"You know, I bought this bottle of love potion last week. Hundred pounds. And you know what, I ain't walking around with a new girlfriend, am I?"

"Sir, sometimes they take a while to work. Who did you give it to?" I asked tediously, accepting the fact that with the scene he was causing I wouldn't be able to work this faire again.

"My old boss lady, and she downright rejects me! And the week before I bought me a luck spell but I lost half my money in the horse race. You're a phony!"

"Sir, the spells only work—"

"Hey everybody! This witch bitch is a fake, let's get her!" He screamed, but I had already taken off a second before, shoving my bank bag into my skirt's pocket and shoving my way through the crowd.

I cursed under my breath as I ran. I've had upset customers before, but none have gotten that angry. Most know subconsciously that what they're buying is fake. They buy it as a last resort, or as a pretty souvenir. What an idiot that guy must have been. I really needed something else to do for a living.

Ducking into a small café at the end of the street, I could hear the mob run right past. As I caught my breath, I looked at the bulletin board on the wall and saw an advertisement for assistant nurse and magical healing practitioner at Hogwarts, in the faint shimmering text that only magic users could see.

What the hell, I thought to myself. It was worth a shot. If it was really boring, I could always make and sell some real potions on the side.


	3. 2: An interview

(A chapter for plot. The next one likely will be the same. But the one after next will be worth the wait.)

The last time I was here was as a visiting student my graduating year, two years ago. Most everything had been remodeled, as most everything except for the inner most rooms had been burned or destroyed during the battle. Personally, I liked the new décor, though as I made my way to the hospital wing, as quietly as possible to avoid being seen before my interview, I could hear the paintings grumbling about all the history being lost. A shame more of them hadn't burned as well, I thought, in jest, before entering the wing.

I stood tentatively by the doors as they slowly closed, the noise sounding louder due to the room's slight echo.

"Shh!" A lady I faintly remembered being Madame Pomfrey was on the other side of the room, organizing a storage cabinet. There were only a few students in beds, but they all appeared to be sleeping. I made an apologetic face and stepped carefully across the room.

"Hello ma'am, I have an interview for assistant nurse." I whispered, pulling my thin envelope of references and qualifications out of my messenger bag. I only had my school transcripts and a reference from an employer at a muggle coffee shop in France, but judging by the lack of supplies in the cabinet, the hospital wing desperately needed someone to run errands and collect an array of items. How much experience does one need to run errands?

"Yes, yes," She said, fumbling with the cabinet lock, "My office is outside across the hall, meet me there in five minutes, I just need to give young Mr. Finnigan another round of burn ointment." She sighed and shook her head. "Worse than his older brother, I swear!"

Shutting the doors carefully behind me, I found her office, but felt it would be too nosey to wait inside, so I leaned against the wall until she arrived. "Come in, come in!"

The head nurse had me sit down in the only other chair in the small office. "What's your name, sweetie? So young! Oh, to be that young again! Tell me about yourself."

I smiled rather awkwardly. She was clearly easily distracted and obsessive compulsive, lining up pens and scrolls and reaching out a hand to touch a picture on the wall, ever so slightly, to straighten it.

"My name's Ada Rousseau, I'm 20 and I graduated from Beauxbatons two years ago. To be honest I haven't had any serious magical jobs yet, just a few short-term things. I did quite well in herbology, transfiguration, and especially potions, so I figure I'm well suited to be a healer."

Madame Pomfrey nodded intently, writing notes in perfect cursive on a sheet of parchment. "Are you looking to make a career as a matron?"

"I'm not sure how many options I really have, I would love to do something more freelance, or even teach potions since I love it so much, but every school I've looked at isn't accepting new professors, especially as young as I am. But the more I think about it the nicer being a matron sounds. Or assistant at least. I feel I could learn a lot and definitely be able to help people while doing it."

I was making things up at this point. It didn't sound awful, but it was nowhere near a dream of mine. Interviews, in my eyes, were all about selling yourself, and if I had to make a few falsities to do so, I was more than willing.

"Excellent! I can't promise recognition or glory, but the satisfaction of doing an important job right is what keeps me from retiring. The job is yours!"

I smiled gratefully.

"Unfortunately, well, it's fortunate, but not for you, there are few students needing assistance currently, so your duties will primarily include retrieval of healing items, sending out orders for potions and supplies, and, though it's quite unglamorous, the rainy season is almost upon us which means the dark woods will be full of excellent ingredients!"

Hopefully my lack of excitement was masked by intent nods and smiles. I suppose the freedom would be nicer than sitting in a stuffy office all day. "Thank you, I look forward to starting. When might that be?"

"Tomorrow if you can manage it." She turned the parchment around and indicated for me to sign. "Nothing too difficult at first, I'll give you a tour of the wing and explain a few things. The real work starts next week, with Quidditch tryouts! Always a few scrapes and bruises and broken limbs to mend." Laughing to herself, she rolled up the signed parchment and ushered me out of the office. "Now leave me to my patients, young lady! Ask someone to show you to your quarters and see me here tomorrow at 8 o'clock sharp."

I could hardly get a word in edgewise to say thank you and goodbye before I left. She was rather talkative, which could be entertaining, or unfortunate. Perhaps I really would fall in love with the job and become the next matron of Hogwarts. It seemed too simple, a life too easily laid out for me.

It had been a long day, so I was glad to find my quarters with the help of a prefect, and I went to bed early.


End file.
